


A Study in Pink

by cdaae



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21913555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cdaae/pseuds/cdaae
Summary: Murder wasn’t anything new; the mortals had been killing each other since Ares had first taught them how to fashion sticks into spears for lethal efficiency. But these deaths were different from any Hades had seen in the centuries of governing the dead. Typically, when a mortal died, Thanatos or Hermes collected the soul and shepherded it into the Underworld. Hades very rarely collected souls himself, opting to remain in the Underworld to take care of other matters involved in running a realm. The Underworld was his domain, meaning he should be able to delegate soul collecting to anyone he wished rather than do it himself.And yet, he’d been in the mortal realm for two years, unable to solve this damned case.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	1. Prologue

Hades had been doing this for too damn long. 

He clenched his cigar between his teeth, drawing a notepad from his coat pocket. Hades was lucky, all things considered, that he was first on the scene. He jotted down a few notes but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. The corpse before him was the reason he was still stuck in the godsforsaken mortal realm. 

Murder wasn’t anything new; the mortals had been killing each other since Ares had first taught them how to fashion sticks into spears for lethal efficiency. But these deaths were different from any Hades had seen in the centuries of governing the dead. Typically, when a mortal died, Thanatos or Hermes collected the soul and shepherded it into the Underworld. Hades very rarely collected souls himself, opting to remain in the Underworld to take care of other matters involved in running a realm. The Underworld was his domain, meaning he should be able to delegate soul collecting to anyone he wished rather than do it himself. 

And yet, he’d been in the mortal realm for two years, unable to solve this damned case. Originally, he’d assumed Thanatos was simplyincompetent - which wasn’t much of a stretch - he had reported the killings but the number of souls did not match Hades’ records. If the number had been off by one or two, Hades wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But thirty missing souls? Something was wrong, even Thanatos should not have been unable to find thirty mortal souls whose deaths had all occurred in the same city. 

Hades dropped his cigar to the cobblestones and stamped out the glowing embers with his foot. He used his teeth to remove one of his gloves, pulling it from his middle finger and letting it hang from his mouth so that he could press two fingers to the mortal’s neck. Definitely dead but still warm. The condition of the body told him there had been a struggle. A few gashes in the mortal’s skin, torn clothing, and a look of horror perpetually frozen on his face. But Hades noticed that there was no fatal wound - the few cuts the body bore could have easily been stitched up. This man should have survived this attack.

If the corpse was still warm, then the soul should have been nearby. Denial was a mortal’s first instinct, Hades had found, which typically caused them to linger near their deceased bodies. Souls usually only wandered off if left unattended for hours with no one to guide them towards the River Styx. But there was something about how empty the corpse felt, just a husk of a person, that told Hades he wasn’t going to find a soul anywhere nearby. This death was just like the slew of others that had been keeping Hades in the mortal realm. Something - or someone - was  _ stealing _ souls. 

Hades capped his pen and tucked it and the notebook back into his coat as he stood back up. Two years in this wretched realm and he still had no leads. When he’d first come to the mortal realm, he hadn’t expected to enjoy detective work. He had used a bit of his persuasive and deceptive powers to buy himself a position with the local law enforcement as a junior detective. But once he’d started solving crimes, he had quickly discovered that he had a knack for it. Hades was good at reading people,  _ especially _ liars, and he was even better at getting them to confess their crimes. Perhaps he had an advantage as the God of the Underworld, but he had risen through the ranks with an unprecedented speed and was now head of his department. There was no case he couldn’t crack, except this one. 

It wounded his ego a bit, to think that in two years time he still hadn’t found any answers - if anything he had only collected more questions. The number of missing souls had climbed to around two hundred in total. Hades shoved his hands into his pants pockets and trudged back home. It was starting to rain and so he tipped his head down, his hat keeping his face dry. Usually, after finding yet another corpse, he would take a walk and attempt to sort through his thoughts. But he could tell from the ominous clouds that the rain would only get worse. Most mortals would find a man meandering in torrential rain to be odd, so he instead headed towards his home. 

“Home” was a spacious apartment on a peaceful street. Hades blended in with the mortals well; he was austere in attitude and kept to himself, very rarely drawing the attention of others. He usually wore a long coat and a wide-brimmed hat in an effort to blend in with the background. He was practically invisible most of the time, happily moving between the realms in chilling silence that he took comfort in. For hundreds of years, Hades had  _ enjoyed  _ going unnoticed, he had preferred his solitude- especially to the raucous parties held by his brothers. But maybe it was the grim, desolate mortal realm that had begun to make him question his self imposed isolation. Perhaps it was his apartment, so barely decorated that felt almost uninhabited, it was so devoid of life or any kind of personal touch. He’d allowed his housekeeper to decorate the rooms as she saw fit, taking no part of it. It hadn’t mattered at the time. But now… the sheer emptiness of the apartment threatened to swallow him up. He, Hades, the _ King of the Underworld _ … was lonely. 


	2. Chapter 1

The day started out like any other. Hades woke to the smell of breakfast wafting in from the kitchen. He’d fallen asleep at his desk again, all his notes from the missing soul case strewn on the surface. On the wall opposite his desk was a blank pinboard. With hard cases, Hades would often pin what he knew to the board and connect the dots. It made things clearer; a red string leading him through the case piece by piece, until it all lay before him and told him what he needed to know. He wanted to follow that process with this case, but he still didn’t know where to start. 

He could hear his housekeeper humming to herself in the kitchen. She’d likely come fetch him soon, and he knew she would chastise him for working too hard. He’d come to appreciate her motherly mannerisms and her concern reminded him that, for all intents and purposes, he  _ was mortal _ right now. Taking on a mortal form meant he needed to eat and sleep regularly, or he’d feel mortal repercussions. Hades decided he ought to make an appearance in the kitchen, and maybe she’d think he’d actually slept in his bed. 

Hades rose, stretching his arms out wide. His neck felt stiff thanks to the awkward way he’d slept hunched over his desk. Damn mortals - Their bodies were so weak, so easily made sore. He couldn’t wait to shed this fragile form and, hopefully, never have to set foot in the mortal realm again. 

Mrs. Mary was making eggs and bacon for his breakfast and the scent was divine, his mouth watering before he even entered the kitchen. At least he got to experience the good parts of being human, it almost made the experience worth it. His housekeeper spared him a brief glance, shaking her head and letting out a soft ‘tsk’. Hades poured himself a mug of coffee, inhaling the deep, rich scent before he took a tentative sip from the hot beverage. He was fairly certain coffee rivaled the ambrosia of the gods. was exquisite; bitter, yet invigorating. He lived on the stuff. 

Hades could feel the lecture coming before she even opened her mouth. It was the way she turned to him, arms coming up to cross over her chest, and how her mouth was set in a thin, severe line. He sighed into his coffee, hiding the hint of a smirk behind the mug. “Let’s hear it then.”

“I didn’t hear you come home last night. Must have been late.”

“It was,” he took a sip, “crime doesn’t have a curfew.” His tone was dry and matter of fact, but he knew she would catch the hint of amused sarcasm.

Her next words came sharp, obviously unamused with his flippant attitude. “Don’t start. The bed is still made, and made well, so I know I’m the one that did it. We had an agreement.”

“It’s this case-” She held up one hand and he immediately fell silent. 

“It’s just a case. It will still be waiting for you in the morning. Those people will still be dead after a good night’s sleep. You need to take better care of yourself.” 

“Yes, mother.” he grumbled, unable to drop the habit of making little jokes at her. Her eyes sparkled with a good-natured light and she returned her attention to the stove. Hades had always imagined she would have made an excellent mother. She had told him once, after they’d both had a few drinks, that there was a time when all she wanted was a family. “Wasn’t in the cards,” she’d said, with a sadness in her eyes that reminded him how interesting and complex the mortals were. So many emotions, so many hopes and dreams. All he had ever been, and all he ever would be, was the God of the Dead. There was nothing more for him, and, until arriving in the mortal realm, he had been content with his lot. It had never occurred to him that there could be more than that - that he could  _ want _ more than that. But now…

He gave his head a slight shake. No use dwelling on what he could never have. Mrs. Mary served him breakfast and cleaned up while he ate. She was an excellent chef, a skill that had ultimately won her the position. Blotting at his mouth with a napkin after finishing, he rose from the table. 

“Excellent, as always, but I should be off.”

Mrs. Mary glanced at his empty plate, letting out a sigh. “Fine, I suppose. But do _ try _ to be home at a reasonable hour. You know, I worry about you.” He towered over her, as he did most people, but he leaned down and kissed the top of her head while she hugged him from the side. He really was quite fond of her. 

Hades discovered the rain hadn’t let up from last night. He knew he should hail a driver, yet he preferred walking to work. He tipped his hat down and flipped up his coat collar. A little rain never hurt anyone. 

The normally bustling city was quiet and empty, few braving the downpour. A carriage would pass him on occasion, but, for the most part, the city was still. Shop-lined cobbled streets were usually crowded with vendors, one of his favorites belonging to a baker with the most delectable sweet rolls. Most days, there was a violinist on the corner and Hades always stopped to toss him a coin. He passed the solemn old cathedral where the priest was usually on the steps, greeting those who walked by. Striding through the square, it seemed empty without a group of rambunctious children, caught up in some sort of silly game and chasing each other through the throngs of people. 

He arrived at his office to find several of his men had opted to stay home. He took a mental note of each one - he’d be sure to speak to them the next time he saw them. He was greeted warmly by his team, a junior detective stepping away from his desk to speak to him. However, the boy hesitated, and Hades suppressed a chuckle. The new recruits always found him intimidating. “Yes, Thomas?”

“Well boss… there’s a gal in your office.” Thomas twisted his hat in nervous hands. “She’s insistin’ on speakin’ with ya, says it’s real urgent.”

Hades’s brow furrowed. “Thank you. I’ll go speak with her at once.” The boy nodded, visibly relieved to return to his desk. Hades hung his coat and hat by the door before preparing to go to his office. He was certain it was some child, waiting to beg him to find a lost dog or missing toy. The mortal children took trivial matters so seriously. It amused him at times but right now, he wanted to work on a  _ real  _ case. Hopefully her matter was one he could solve easily and send her on her way. 

He opened his office door and found himself face to face with a goddess. 

_ This  _ was certainly no girl; she was a  _ woman and  _ though young, she was definitely the most beautiful woman Hades had ever seen. Her dark, chestnut hair framed her pale face in delicate waves. Her wide, tawny doe-eyes were brimming with tears, the deep brown of her irises shimmering with distress as she stared up at him. She dabbed at one tear stained cheek with a damp handkerchief, and Hades was momentarily struck, at a loss for words. 

The woman watched him as she fought to control her trembling lip. “Are you Detective Eubulus?” Hades nodded and bent at the waist, lifting her free hand to his lips and pressing a whisper-soft kiss to her skin. Her cheeks flushed prettily at the contact as she studied his face. 

“I’m afraid I’m at a disadvantage. I don’t know your name.” he said with a deep, gravelly voice.

“My name is Kore, and I need your help.”

“My help?” He moved around her to sit at his desk. “What does a beautiful lady like yourself need with a detective?” He’d liken her to Aphrodite, but even that wouldn’t do her justice. 

“It’s my mother.” Her lips quivered again, raw emotion threatening to overtake her cool, collected composure. “She’s missing.”

He felt her sorrow as if it were his own, pulling his notepad from his pocket. “Tell me everything, sweetness.”

“She went to the square yesterday to pick-” 

“Hold up.” He tapped his pen against his notepad. “She’s only been missing since yesterday? Sweetness, that’s not a case. Not yet.”

She sniffled. “You mean you won’t help me?”

He steeled himself against her tears. “I’m sorry… I can’t… 48 hours, that’s the rules.” He kept his eyes on hers, refusing to look down at her pouting, trembling lips, unable to ignore how they looked far too kissable. She left without another word. He nearly went after her, nearly grabbed her arm and threw himself at her feet, offering her every resource he had to aid her search. 

Instead, knowing full well he was a fool, he allowed the sublime little goddess to walk back out of his life. 


End file.
